A Hunter and a Witch
by XMissxHallawayX
Summary: A chance meeting in a bar leads to awkward situations and stranger conversations. Unknown links and forgotten meetings forge the background of Lydia S. Marisol, Former Ravenclaw, Hunter Extraordinaire. Harry Potter OC exchange student post-Hogwarts!
1. Chapter 1

**Just a concept I'm trying out. Let me know if you like it.**

**This may be the only Harry Potter OC story I'll ever write, so just sit back and be patient.  
**

**xHx  
**

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**Name:** Lydia Saherra Marisol  
**Age:** 23  
**Height:** 5'4"  
**Weight:** 124 lbs.  
**Hogwarts House:** Ravenclaw  
**Wand Type:** Oak and dragon heartstring, 12 1/5 inches, flexible; great for inventing new spells

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Lydia sat at the bar, eyes fixed upon the mirror behind it, the first finger of her right hand tracing the rim of her shotglass. Some guy with a leather jacket sat two seats to her left, staring into his whiskey.

"You won't find the secrets of the universe in a glass of alcohol, no matter how long you stare at it," she said, glancing down at him and lifting her shotglass to her lips.

"And what would you know about that, hmm?" His gravelly voice struck a cord of recognition. She knew him from somewhere.

"I've been there before; searching for answers in amber colored liquid and never finding them. You're looking in the wrong place." She gestured to the barman for another drink, but instead of asking for another shot, she smiled at him. "Can I get a margarita now?"

The barman smiled. "Lydia, you know you can get anything you want. Hell, you're the only one who orders these Apocalypse Now shooters!" With a sweeping movement, he had the shotglass off of the counter.

Jacket moved closer by one stool. "Apocalypse Now?" He had an ironic expression.

"It's just tequila, dry vermouth, and Irish cream liqueur. Gives a hell of a kick, and supplies one hell of a hangover." With a grin and a wink as the barman handed her the requested margarita, she adds, "Wanna try one?"

"What the hell?" He downed the whiskey and requested the beverage from the barman, who had it on the counter very lifted the glass. "Dean Winchester.

Lydia raised her margarita and touched it to his glass. "Lydia Marisol."

"What brings you to these parts?" Dean asked, laughing mildly.

"Work."

"What line of work you in?"

"Should be asking you these questions." Lydia took a sip. "Always forget what a margarita tastes like. Especially after six Apocalypse Now shots."

"Me and my brother, Sam...we're kinda in the apocalypse business," Dean said, gesturing to a younger man with longer, darker hair.

"And how much whiskey have you had tonight?"

"Just the one glass. Seriously. You look like you've been through hell. I've been in Hell." He downed the shot and gasped. "That is pretty strong."

"And I can last through twelve of them without so much as a slurred word. Once I get to number fifteen, though, I look like I just got off the Viper," she said, taking another drink of the margarita.

"What the heck is the Viper?" Dean asked.

"Carnival ride. A favorite of mine. It goes up, it angles, and it spins. Spins you in, spins you out, spins you all the way around, until your face meets the ground," she said, reciting the words like a poem. "But it's nothing like Spin-Out. That one takes you upside-down."

"And how do you react on that one?"

"Screaming explitives, shrieking my head off, and getting choked by my necklace." Her left hand wrapped around the charm that decorated her neck.

"Anti-possession charm?" Dean said, sounding shocked.

"Yeah. Gift from my mother. Last gift from her, actually."

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**As I said - please, please, please give me your honest opinions! This is my FIRST try at an OC!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Kinda left that last chapter hanging!**

**Thanks to Adorablethor for reminding me about this story through a review!**

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"_Yeah. Gift from my mother. Last gift from her, actually."_

Dean's eyebrows shot up. "Last gift from your mother?"

"Yeah. She died three hours later. Werewolf attack. I hunted down and killed the creature that slaughtered her myself, about ten years later." Lydia licked her lips before she added. "I was six years old when she died."

"So you killed your first werewolf at sixteen, hmm?"

"Yep. Did it solo, too. My aunt was watching my little brother, Max, and our dad died when Max was six months old."

"Six months?"

"Yep."

The two stared at each other.

"So, you're a hunter?" Dean finally asked.

"Yeah, though it's not the life my mother wanted for me. I was supposed to go to this big school in Scotland – and I did, for six years. But the second I got out after my sixth year, I dove into hunting. It's in my blood."

"School in Scotland?"

"Big one, in a castle. I loved it there, but my family needed me more. The safety of my family is more important than anything else." Lydia rapped on the bar with a knuckle. The barman returned. "Take this stuff. We won't be needing it."

"You got it, Lydia. Same time tomorrow?"

"Probably, unless I get this job done tonight." She looked at Dean with searching eyes. "You and your brother up for a chase?"

"You know what's been happening here?" Dean asked, surprised.

"Easiest case I've worked in three years," Lydia told him, clapping a hand to his shoulder. "Come on. Let's go kick some demonic ass."

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**Another cutoff. Yes, I know, I'm working toward pissing off a lot of people. It's not on purpose, I swear!**

**Much love,**

**xHx**


	3. Chapter 3

_"Easiest case I've worked in three years," Lydia told him, clapping a hand to his shoulder. "Come on. Let's go kick some demonic ass."_

Lydia, Sam, and Dean knelt behind a fallen tree, watching an old, abandoned hunting lodge. It had seemed abandoned, at least, until Dean had kept trying to insist that he had to turn back to work on the Impala.

"Muggle Repelling Charm?" Lydia had muttered. Something freaky was going on, and she had a theory as to what was happening.

"Lydia," Sam began, "tell me again what you think is going on? I thought this was a demon!"

"So did I – until Dean started talking about working on the Impala. You heard what I said, right?"

"Yeah, what is that?"

"It's a protective enchantment that keeps non-magical people from infiltrating a magical community or dwelling, or even getting close to it. I've seen it used a lot, but never seen what it does to the average hunter. Especially one who's car-obsessed."

"So, what's this you gave me, again?" Dean asked, lifting his right arm to bare the thin wooden bracelet.

"Enchanted holly – it negates the effects of such charms and enchantments." _We're totally screwed._ "I thought this was an average demon, but from the look of things…well, we're dealing with something a thousand times worse. One of my own people who made a devil's bargain – immortality in exchange for eternal servitude under a demon."

"And who is your own people?" Sam asked.

"I'll explain later. Stay here." And she leapt over the log, crawling toward the lodge and peeking into the one window.

A woman with utterly insane hair stood in front of the fireplace in the lodge, stirring a cauldron and adding things to it. From the look of things, she was brewing a youthfulness potion – one of the most dangerous potions in the magical world. And of course, the faint tattoo on her left arm – a skull with a snake protruding from its mouth – moved sluggishly.

The enchantment of the Mark was fading.

"Son of a bitch," Lydia muttered, motioning Sam and Dean closer.

"What's wrong?" Dean asked, trying to look into the window as well.

"I know who we're dealing with and what she can do. I'll explain later – just stay out here. No matter what you hear through the walls or see through the window, _don't come inside_. She hates non-magical people," Lydia said lightly. "I'll be back."

She jumped to her feet and walked purposefully to the door, flinging it open.

"I knew you'd come," laughed the woman over the cauldron, just as the door clicked closed.

"Of course I would, Bellatrix."

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**Planned this. All will be explained in the next two chapters.**

**These are intended to be short!**

**Love,**

**xHx**


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